


Erised

by talesofsymphoniac



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Book/Movie Fusion, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, M/M, Mirror of Erised, Potterlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-22 09:34:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7430269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/talesofsymphoniac/pseuds/talesofsymphoniac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Sherlock studied the mirror closely: Golden frame, with an inscription on top. “Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.” It wasn’t a language Sherlock recognized, but then many things had happened recently that made no sense."</p><p>Sherlock and John find the Mirror of Erised, and are each interested in what the other sees. Takes place in the BBC Canon, theoretically?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Erised

Sherlock studied the mirror closely: Golden frame, with an inscription on top. “Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.” It wasn’t a language Sherlock recognized, but then many things had happened recently that made no sense. Why not add a secret magical language on top of–

  
Sherlock glared at the mirror, silently berating himself. He could hear the Mycroft of his Mind Palace taunting him. “It’s written backwards, obviously.”

  
_Oh, piss off. Don’t expect me to be rational after all this._ Mycroft gave him a look of disbelief, but quieted enough to let him think.

  
_I show not your face, but your heart’s desire._ This mirror shows… desire. What does that even mean?

  
“A mirror?” Just behind him, it seemed John had only just arrived at that conclusion, bless his knack for stating the obvious.

  
“Erised,” Sherlock said in confirmation, internally rolling his eyes at how ridiculous the inverted English sounded.

  
Meanwhile, John had moved in closer, standing in front of the glass as you would any other mirror. Suddenly, he started. “Hey!”

  
Curious, Sherlock took a step forward. “What is it?”

  
John took a moment to answer, eyes glued to the mirror, looking a bit wistful. “It’s… not my reflection,” he offered (again with the stating the obvious), “Well, not exactly… Here, you take a look.” He stepped aside and looked at Sherlock expectantly.

  
Shame. Sherlock had been interested to know what John would have seen. After all this time, the subject of John Watson and his desires was still a bit of a murky area in Sherlock’s knowledge. Regardless, Sherlock took a small breath and stepped in front of the mirror.

  
The first thing he noticed was that John was still visible in the reflection, which should have been impossible, since John had stepped aside. This John was standing close enough to Sherlock that he should have been able to feel him, and yet Sherlock felt nothing but air. Other than that, the reflections didn’t look much different than the way Sherlock and John looked in reality: same ages, same clothes, and John was giving Sherlock the same look he always gave him when Sherlock had done something “brilliant” or “amazing” or “genius”.

  
And that would be all most people saw at first glance. But this was Sherlock Holmes, not most people, and as Sherlock Holmes’ eyes scanned the scene before him, he quickly identified an element that made his stomach twist on itself: The reflections were wearing matching wedding rings. As to the reason why, there was only one conclusion that could possibly made.

  
As if to confirm his deduction, the reflection of John chose that moment to take Sherlock’s hand. The reflection’s hand, that is. Sherlock, standing stock still, felt nothing but shock.

  
“Sherlock?” John’s voice, grounding him again. “What are you seeing?”

  
Sherlock swallowed. He couldn’t tell John, he could barely face it himself. He had already known how he felt about John, but seeing it spelled out this way… hurt. It was pathetic, he thought. Why should he be so affected by such a clear forgery?

  
“I…” he finally stumbled, “What did you see?” Almost without thinking, Sherlock found himself reaching to touch the hand where the ring appeared in his reflection, not noticing John’s eyes follow the movement. Nothing there. Of course not.

  
“I saw the flat at Baker Street,” John said, in a tone that said he was trying to act normal since nothing else was going to. “You know, from back when I used to live there.” Sherlock tried not to over-analyse that, which wasn’t too difficult considering his brain had decided to shut down completely over this ridiculous mirror. “Sherlock, what is this?”

  
“Read it,” Sherlock said shortly. “Backwards.”

  
After a few seconds of lip movements (John nearly always moved his lips when reading. Or typing. And he wondered how Sherlock was able to guess his passwords so easily.) John turned to Sherlock. “Your heart’s desire.” His lips pressed together like they did when he was bothered about something.

  
Of course. “You did choose to go back,” Sherlock said softly. But if this mirror was to be believed, John wanted to come home. A bit not good, considering he’d done the honorable thing and gone back to his wife.

  
John nodded curtly. “Yeah, well…” he trailed off, unable to think of anything to defend himself. “…What do you see, then?”

  
Sherlock looked back at the mirror. He couldn’t quite bring himself to lie, so he settled for a half-truth. “It’s not much different,” he said.

  
John studied him, not quite believing him, and then he put two and two together. Mimicking Sherlock’s movement a few moments ago, John reached to touch his hand, the way Sherlock had touched his own, and felt the cold band of Mary’s wedding ring under his fingers. He looked back to Sherlock, who had been watching the deduction slowly dawn on him.

  
“No,” John said, doubt dripping from his words.

  
Sherlock looked defiant. “What?”

  
A small pause, then, more gently this time: “You?”

  
Sherlock’s face fell from defiance to surrender. He glanced back at the mirror one last time, before turning his back entirely on John, who didn’t seem to know if he’d actually guessed correctly or what to do about it if he had.

  
“I’ll leave you to your deductions.”


End file.
